


Decorate Your Own Soul

by thisiswherethefishlives



Series: Comes The Dawn: Tattoo AU [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Come Marking, Established Relationship, FitzMack - Freeform, Hand Jobs, M/M, Tattoo AU, Trypanophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/thisiswherethefishlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as he can remember, Mack has been petrified of needles. It's made trips to the doctor's office uncomfortable, and has set him apart from the rest of his family. This single phobia has determined so much of how he lives his life, shaped who he is and how he chooses to express himself.</p><p>Being with Fitz changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decorate Your Own Soul

_For as long as he can remember, Mack has been petrified of needles._

_Just the idea of getting a shot or having blood drawn leaves him sweating and irritable. It would be bad enough if the only thing he had to worry about was doctor's visits, but that would be too easy._

_No, on top of a near-crippling phobia of needles, he comes from a family where getting your first tattoo is a rite of passage. He's the only person in two generations to go without ink, and it’s a fact that he’s been teased over mercilessly for years._

_Yeah. Mack's probably the only person that he knows that gets judged negatively for not having a tattoo._

_The only other person in Mack's family to go without any ink is his Grams, and you can believe that she has a lot to say on the matter. All kinds of talk about hooligans and tramp-stamps and propriety. Give her an opportunity to talk about her thoughts on the evils of tattoos and she'll talk your ears off. Once Grams gets on her soap-box, it actually becomes just as annoying as the teasing, if not more._

_She's always seen it as a personal victory that Mack never got a tattoo. Her one bright, shining beacon of hope. She's favored him, and spoiled him, and held him close while the rest of the family watched on with smirks on their faces because they all knew that Mack’s choice wasn’t a moral one. They all knew the real reason behind his decision._

_Grams had always seen it as such a point of pride to have at least one grandson that wasn't interested in tattoos. Mack had always seen it as something to be ashamed of._

* * *

_Being with Fitz changes everything._

_With every clumsy gesture and crooked smile, Fitz wormed himself deeper and deeper into Mack's heart until it got to the point where Mack can’t remember what life was life before him._

_It's more than the static-thrill each time their lips brush against each other, or the lingering looks that say so much more than their words ever could. Being with Fitz is more than physical, more than emotional. It transcends anything that Mack had expected and leaves him feeling like he's finished the most amazing book, only to find that it's the first in an ongoing series._

_He wants to keep going with that series, wants it to continue forever. He wants Fitz forever._

_Of course, Mack had only realized the certainty of his feelings after Fitz had shared his tattoos. It thrills Mack to know how few members of the team are privy to the tattoos that are hidden so well beneath his checkered button-ups and sensible cardigans. It sets him on fire to know that no one else has been granted the privilege of tracing each stem and petal with eyes and fingers and tongue._

_It’s so easy to get lost in Fitz, in his tattoos with their still-hidden meanings, and his bright blue eyes that communicate when even his words fail. Fitz is easily the most beautiful person that Mack has ever met, and Mack is devoted._

* * *

_He doesn't mean to research tattoos at first, it's just a passing thought._ What would I get tattooed if I could get past the whole needle thing? _The only answer that makes sense is something to honor Fitz, something to show Fitz just how permanent and indelible his feelings are. He’s seen firsthand how meaningful Fitz’s tattoos are, how each one so perfectly captures the person that it represents, and it leaves Mack feeling inadequate. As much as he adores Fitz, Mack can’t come up with an idea worthy of him._

_He waffles over it all for months, contemplates everything from Fitz’s name in fine script to borrowing the flower motif. It weighs heavy over him, his indecision and anxiety, and it all comes out over a bottle of Bourbon as he confesses his idea to Bobbi. Ever the queen of good ideas and smart decisions, she drags him to a tattoo parlor, holds his hand as he describes what he wants and where as the alcohol buzzes pleasantly under his skin. She's there the entire time, and it's incredibly calming until Mack registers the angry rumble of the gun._

_Suddenly, the only thing that Mack registers is panic. Sheer, powerful panic, and it's got him out of his mind in a way Mack hasn't felt since just after the temple._

_He's frozen, jaw clenched, numb to the situation. Wrapped up in his terror, encased in a violent cold sweat, all he can do is watch unblinking as the needle gun gets closer and closer to his skin._

_Next thing Mack registers, there's an ice pack pressed to his forehead and the artist is gone. It's just him and Bobbi and an overwhelming sense of shame when Mack realizes that he must have blacked out._

_Bobbi doesn't tease him over it, doesn't say much at all. He toys with the idea of apologizing, but he doesn't get much further than “I'm sorry” before she's glaring him down._

_That night, he trails his fingers along the flowers etched upon Fitz's skin, and he aches. He wishes he were a stronger man, a braver man. He wishes that he was able to express his devotion and love for Fitz as boldly as Fitz had done. The mingled thistle and hydrangeas glow against Fitz's pale skin, and it means everything._

* * *

" _You should know, Bobbi told me what you tried to do. I think she was convinced that you wouldn’t say anything yourself.”_

_It’s true. Mack hadn’t planned to tell Fitz about his failure. It just didn’t seem relevant in the grand scheme of things, but now Fitz is looking at him with those sad, watery eyes, and Mack has no choice but to tell him everything._

_He explains his phobia, and the ever-present judgment of his family. He recaps the embarrassment and fear he has felt at every doctor’s appointment that he can remember, and he explains how much he had wanted it that night at the tattoo parlor; what it would have meant to him, and how he had meant to do it for them. To symbolize their relationship._

_There’s a lingering quiet between the two of them before Fitz rears back enough to slap at Mack’s shoulder with a pout._

_“I don’t care if you’re terrified of needles. I couldn’t care less if you never get a tattoo. I don’t need you to get a tattoo to prove your love to me, because you already prove your love every day in everything you do.”_

_Fitz smirks wide and wicked before continuing his thoughts. “Besides, I like the idea of being the only one to mark you up. Do you really want to rob me of that honor?”_

_It’s only after the ensuing tickle fight that he gets an opportunity to let Fitz’s words sink in. It’s the final nail in the coffin of his insecurities. If Fitz doesn’t care about Mack being ink-free and terrified of needles, surely there’s nothing to waste time worrying over. He’s pretty sure in that moment that Grams will adore Fitz._

* * *

There's something incredible about the way Mack looks just after he's taken off his clothes. It's the barest glimpse of vulnerability that leaves Fitz undone every time, fleeting and brief as Mack stalks towards him with intent. He's all smooth, unblemished skin stretched across the ridges and valleys of his musculature.

A god amongst men. An Adonis, and he's all for Fitz.

"God, Turbo. I just need to-," starts Mack, but Fitz can't find it in himself to care what Mack just needs. Can't seem to stop himself from cutting him off mid-sentence with a crash of lips and tongues and teeth. His greedy fingers trail up and down over Mack's chest, clawing gently to pull a desperate sigh from his lover's lips.

So many times, Mack has spent hours just worshiping at Fitz's skin, trailing his fingers and then his tongue over each stem and petal that has been etched in before dragging lower. There's a sense of fervor and impatience, reverence and longing that weighs in every caress, leaving him wanting to crawl out of his skin from over stimulation. It tears Fitz apart in the most delicious of ways, but that's not what he wants tonight.

With hands that never manage to be this firm and steady outside of the bedroom, Fitz pushes against Mack's shoulders, guiding him until he's lying flat on his back. There's trust there, in his handsome face, and Fitz could easily get lost in that look if it weren't for everything else that was offered up to him at the same time. Luckily for them both, Fitz is a man on a mission as he climbs upon the bed to straddle Mack’s stomach.

“Look at you, all- all, um…” Even now, with his veins thrumming with confidence and his hands steady against Mack’s skin, his words still fail him. Mack doesn’t seem to mind though, never does really, the way that his pupils are blown and his breathing hitches with each touch makes it clear that he’s beyond caring if Fitz needs to take his time to find his words.

He does find them though, leaning down to breathe his devotion into his lover’s ear. “Beautiful,” he whispers before allowing his tongue to trace along the shell of Mack’s ear. Gently, he pulls the lobe between his teeth, nipping just hard enough to have Mack bucking against him.

“Perfection,” he presses into the center of Mack’s chest, lips grazing the soft warmth of his skin. Pushing up onto his forearms, Fitz allows his eyes to linger, to better take in the glory that is Mack’s chest. It’s everything Fitz never knew he wanted before Mack; it’s unmarred, smooth, perfect skin. Not a single mark to be found aside from the calluses on his hands and a small scar on the inside of his right knee.

This is the kind of skin you write odes to, the kind of skin you want to lick and nibble at even when your boss is in the room. The kind of skin that you worship.

So Fitz does.

Shifting slightly to his left, Fitz runs the flat of his tongue over Mack’s nipple before flicking at it with just the tip of his tongue. The choked gasp that escapes from Mack has Fitz’s cheeks burning with heat, every inch of his skin flushed with want. He grazes his top teeth against the firm peak, relishing in the way that Mack bucks against him at the sensation before switching to pay reverence to the other side.

Before Mack, there hadn’t been many others; certainly, there was no one that got under Fitz’s skin quite like Mack, but there had been a few. Clumsy back then for reasons completely unrelated to the aphasia and brain damage, Fitz had learned some of the more exciting bits of the human anatomy. None of it had prepared Fitz for Mack.

Mack is writhing now, a sheen of sweat coating his skin, and Fitz can’t help but think that _this_ is how Mack should always look. He should always look too big for his skin, blissed out and on the edge of _everything_. Pressing back, he can feel Mack’s hardness firmly cradled between his cheeks, and it makes Fitz feel powerful. He’s the one that has Mack grasping at the sheets for purchase underneath him, undone and under the mercy of his tongue, his fingers, his gaze, and his words. It’s under his attention that Mack is hard and straining for friction.

Fitz has never known another person to be so sensitive, and he knows that Mack is it for him. There’s no way he’ll ever be interested in another after studying Mack’s body and memorizing his reactions. No one will ever be half the challenge, and no one will please him quite like Mack does. It doesn't matter the reason, because at the end of the day Fitz just wants Mack. From the ink over his heart, to the words that he manages to force out, Fitz does everything he can to make sure that Mack knows just how precious and loved he is.

Pressing back against Mack's cock, Fitz slowly circles his hips just enough to give Mack some of the friction that he had been searching for. It's not enough for him to get off, but there will be plenty of time for that later. For now, it's about Fitz worshiping Mack's body in all the ways he knows how.

Keeping his eyes locked with Mack's, Fitz continues to grind his ass against Mack as he brings a hand up to Mack's mouth. As always, Mack reads him like a book, tilting his head back to get better leverage as his tongue laves at Fitz's palm. Eyes hooded in concentration, he does his best to draw Fitz's fingers into the wet warmth of his mouth, but that isn't what this is about.

Fitz has been on edge for what feels like hours, but is probably closer to minutes. It doesn't matter how long it's been, really, because the effect is the same. The second he gets his slick hand wrapped around his cock is the second he loses control. It's a tight, wet grip that he can't help but fuck into, and Mack's eyes urge him on as his mouth gapes open around a silent moan.

Fitz allows himself to imagine pushing his cock between those slack lips, thinks back to the last time he had felt the claustrophobic heat of Mack's throat tight around him as he thrust deeper and deeper. It’s tempting, but again - that’s not what this is about. He brings his spare hand back to Mack's mouth, allows him to lick at each finger before allowing Fitz to thrust them in past his plush lips. He holds his hand still there, allowing Mack to get his fingers all wet as he continues to twist his hand steadily along his own length. Imagining that it’s his cock in Mack’s mouth instead of his fingers sends a pleasant shiver over his skin. Once Mack has him nice and wet, he pulls his fingers back, back, back behind himself.

He knows that it's coming, but he can't stop the full-body jerk as his wet fingers massage gently at his hole. The aim tonight isn't to be fucked. His goal, in the end, is to show Mack just how much Fitz loves him, so he focuses on the growing pressure building within.

With his hand fisted around his cock and the tip of his finger pressing into his ass, Fitz can feel the tension building. He feels like a pot that’s set to boil over as each stroke brings him closer and closer to the edge. There’s a tightness building in the back of his throat as he struggles to remember to breathe against the pleasure. It’s the tight grip of Mack’s hands on his hips that finally tips him over, grounding him, large fingers leaving bruises that will bloom by morning.

Fitz watches from behind dazed eyes as he comes all over Mack's chest, aching and tingling all over in equal measure. Even as he strokes himself down from orgasm, Fitz can't help but admire how good Mack looks covered in his release, how good it feels to have Mack’s hands still gripping him tight, and how fucked-out Mack looks, even without having come himself.

"I wish you could see how good you look right now." Fitz can hear how breathy and wrecked he sounds, can only imagine what he looks like right now, but it can't be too bad from the way Mack is looking at him like Fitz is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Do you know how good it makes me feel? To- to see you marked up with my come?"

At this point, Fitz's hands are a trembling mess, but he's about eighty percent sure that it's due to the way Mack's gaze leaves him feeling new and raw all at the same time. It doesn't matter, though. You don't need steady hands to rub your come into your lover's skin. He can feel each shaky inhale and exhale Mack takes, a physical reminder of how very responsive he is as Fitz massages his come into Mack’s stomach and chest. It’s sticky, and god only knows that it won’t be comfortable in the morning, but those are thoughts for later. Right now there’s only the repetitive motion of marking Mack the way he knows that they both love. It’s everything to have Mack like this, and before he knows it Fitz’s hands have regained much of the steadiness that they had lost in his release.

"I love you, Mack. Love your skin, love knowing that I'm the only one to do this. To mark you up so that you always know who you belong to."

Mack whines at that, all thin, and high, and breathless, hands griping desperately at Fitz’s hips. Taking pity upon him, Fitz brings a hand back up to Mack's mouth, allows him a small taste of his come before attempting to free himself from Mack’s grip. In hindsight, perhaps Fitz shouldn’t have wound Mack this tight, but he’s not getting anywhere as Mack pants shallowly, fingers flexing to keep Fitz in place.

"It's your turn now, love. You need to let go of me, I promise that I’ll make it worth it.”

He glances up just in time to see Mack roll his eyes dramatically.

“Who says I want to let you go at all, Turbo?”

“Well, fine. This is what _I_ want. Can you do that for me? Can you let me take care of you the way that I’ve been planning all along?”

Mack doesn’t reply in words, but Fitz can feel it when Mack uncurls his fingers from around his hips. It’s all the freedom that Fitz needs, as it allows him to lift off of Mack entirely after flashing a grin in Mack’s direction.

Crawling between Mack's legs, Fitz doesn't stick with the earlier pattern of teasing Mack. Instead, he wraps a sticky hand around the base of Mack's cock before using his tongue to trace the thick vein that runs beneath. It's a series of lingering swipes from the base to the tip before Fitz opens his mouth wide enough to take in the fat head of Mack's cock.

It's soft, and smooth, and Fitz sucks gently while working his tongue into the slit and around the sensitive head, eyes rolling back slightly at the thick taste of Mack's pre-come. It's slightly bitter, a little salty, and it's one hundred percent Mack. Knowing that Fitz is the one bringing him pleasure, working Mack to a panting mess... it's the most delicious thing Fitz has ever tasted.

He can feel the muscles in Mack's thighs twitch, and takes it as a cue to redouble his efforts. Relaxing his jaw, Fitz works more of Mack's length in until he's gotten as much as he can handle without gagging. He used to feel guilty at his lack of finesse and inability to deep-throat his boyfriend, but Fitz quickly learned that there were other ways to please Mack.

He learned that Mack likes it when Fitz pumps the base of his cock with his fist while bobbing on it with his tongue and his lips, messy and eager. He came to realize that Mack's toes tend to curl if Fitz rolls his balls just so, memorized the desperate way Mack will beg for more when Fitz presses spit-slick fingers to his hole - firm enough to feel it, but not enough to get Mack off.

The main thing that Fitz learned about Mack is that there are few things more rewarding in this world than reducing Mack to a silent, straining, aching mess. Pulling up off of Mack's dick, Fitz's hands pull steadily faster and faster up and down, twisting slightly to the right on each stroke the way he knows drives Mack crazy. Mouth no longer occupied, Fitz is free to tell Mack every dirty thing that he wants to do to him, all the different ways that he wants to make Mack come undone. He's free to say all sorts of things, but there's only one thing that will fall from his lips.

"I love you, Mack." His voice is rough and used, and he can see how Mack's stomach jumps at his words. "I love you, I love you so much, baby. I want to be with you forever. I want the entire world to know that you are mine."

There's more that he wants to say, but Mack's gasping for air, every muscle in his body tensing under Fitz’s ministrations, and then he’s shooting his come all over Fitz’s face. Fitz can feel it wet and hot across his lips, roping onto his cheeks and onto the tip of his nose. Knowing that it’s Mack’s come that he’s covered in leaves him breathless and wanting. He feels claimed, marked, and the idea of it has his dick twitching weakly between his legs as it tries to get back into the game. The whole thing is only made hotter as Mack pulls him up his body to kiss him silly. Fitz has never been more thankful for his boyfriend’s superior upper arm strength as he revels in the rush of being manhandled so gently.

Settling his arms over Mack’s shoulders, Fitz is lost to the velvet warmth of Mack's lips as they press to his, and the slip of Mack's tongue as he licks all traces of his come from Fitz's lips. Fitz can feel himself melt into Mack, almost purrs when Mack frames his face with both hands before rubbing his come into Fitz's cheeks and nose - even his forehead isn't safe from the organic facial treatment.

"Now you're marked too, Turbo. Now we belong to each other for keeps."

He doesn't have the heart to remind Mack that they've belonged to each other months before either one of them made a move. Instead he settles in against Mack, enjoying the feeling of firm muscles under him and Mack's large hands now stroking up and down along his back. Despite his tattoos, he's never felt as marked as he does now; covered in Mack's come, and sheltered in his arms.

* * *

_For as long as he can remember, Mack has been petrified of needles. It's made trips to the doctor's office uncomfortable, and has set him apart from the rest of his family. This single phobia has determined so much of how he lives his life, shaped who he is and how he chooses to express himself._

_It's only after being with Fitz that he's come to realize that there are different ways to express the permanence of your feelings. Not every emotion or intention needs to be inked into skin. Not every weakness needs to define who you are._

_There's a velvet box in his pocket, holding two rings. One etched with thistles, the other with hydrangeas. The box sits heavy in his pocket. At the end of the day it’s more than just a marriage proposal. It’s the promise that Mack makes each time he pulls Fitz close. The realization that there’s no future for him without Fitz._

_What it's all come down to is permanence._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Callay for being so patient with me throughout the editing process and helping to shape this into what it is now, and thank you to Isisanubis for riffing with me and getting me so excited to write more for this AU.


End file.
